This week I have mainly been… drowning in bills and realising eldest is no longer a baby

I owe my window cleaner £28 in missed payments. You would think the fact he has accidentally seen me naked a few times should wipe this out as standard. Mind you, maybe the sight of my stomach after three kids has, infact, added to my bill! This is the third bill to land on my doorstep this week alone. How am I paying these? I have gone from feeling like an Independent Lady a la Destiny’s Child to feeling like a Gold Digger a la Kanye West (in saner times). I had baby four months ago and at this precise milestone for him, I lost my financial independence. I’m used to earning my own money and here I am suddenly having nothing. Add three kids to the mix who all need things at different times, and BOOM- broke as a joke!

On the plus side, well in spite of the above, on Wednesday we visited eldest’s new primary school. This was to enable him to meet his new teacher, fellow classmates and see around his classroom. We were the first parents there, due to my nervous energy mainly. Eldest was shown to his classroom and went straight in with no bother whatsoever. The teacher explained that we were to leave him there and make our way to the assembly hall for a ‘parents talk’. I felt so emotional leaving him, it was such a big deal to me. But he seemed settled enough, so myself and hubby sneaked out (his scooter in hand as bloody always!) and made our way to the hall. We were provided with an overview of his start and finish times (during the settling in period), a list of items he will need (more money- great!) and the tasks he should be capable of performing before he starts on the path to being a fully fledged ‘big boy’. The Vice Principal was highlighting how important it is that they can use the bathroom independently and without assistance. She then said, when she first started working at the school, a primary one boy had emerged from the bathroom and unashamedly proclaimed “who does the butt wiping round here?”. I don’t know if you read my blog post a month ago, (https://youandmeplusthree.uk/2018/05/06/this-week-i-have-mainly-been-dealing-with-a-regressing-four-year-old-and-toddler-tantrums-someone-shoot-me/) but, eldest all of a sudden decided to regress and began demanding that I ‘wipe his bottom’ for him. Oh dear, he is going to be that kid, the one they use as an example, I thought to myself! FML! Fifteen minutes later and, school uniform price list in hand, we were back to collect him from his classroom. He was sitting quite peacefully building stickle bricks with his ‘buddy’ Pierce. The school operates a buddy system were all primary one’s are paired with a primary seven pupil who looks after them during their first year. Pierce seemed rather underwhelmed and thoroughly pissed off with his new job role but, was being a good sport nonetheless. We said goodbye to his teacher and off we went to walk back home with scootering eldest.

During dinner that evening, I enquired as to how he had got on once we’d left him in the classroom. “It was so good!” he replied. Phew, I thought to myself. “This bad buddy Luke told a massive, huge lie to the teacher. We were playing with a ball thing and he smashed it, so I did it too. Then when the teacher asked who did it, Luke said it wasn’t us!” he continued enthusiastically. Myself and hubby looked at each other in shock. “Smashed, as in broke something?” hubby asked. “Yes!” returns eldest, with not a hint of regret. He was there fifteen minutes, fifteen! Dear god, what a first impression he must have made to the teacher. I sincerely hope this isn’t him starting as he means to go on! I also feel for Luke’s poor buddy who may find themselves in lots of trouble going forward, what with having that kind of mentor and all! Thinking I would scare the shit out of him, a few minutes later I was pretending the headmaster was on the phone saying that Luke had told him what had happened and he wasn’t happy at all. “Well, it’s not like I have properly started yet” was his rather blase response. Roll on September- not! I’m going to have to stockpile wine to give his teacher as gifts to say sorry! If he doesn’t drive me to drinking them all myself that is.

Scootering to school

This week I have mainly been…. in awe at how many times eldest can let me down a bucketful!

This week we loaded all three sprogs into the car and went ‘visiting’. As a parent, going visiting is a daunting and terrifying experience. Will my children behave? Will they annihilate everyone’s houses? Will we be forced to apologise endlessly for them not keeping the peace and running mental? All these things run through your mind and that’s before you’ve even left the house and arrived anywhere!

Thinking it would be a good idea to expel some of their energy first, we stopped at a park. Middle was loving life, recklessly flinging himself down the slide, as is tradition (see my swimming post). Eldest got bored after awhile so hubby took him rock pooling. All was going great until eldest got his shoes wet whilst performing said rock pooling activity. Complete meltdown about having to wear his soggy shoes to walk back to the car. Weeping and wailing he was, like some kind of tantruming toddler. Trying to keep the peace, I agreed to carry him back to the car until we dried them out at the place we were heading to next. So there I was, five foot three me, lugging around my huge four-year-old, two f@cking long fishing nets and trying to run after insane middle. Hubby was, of course, strolling peacefully along with the baby in the buggy.

Get to the MIL’s (mother in law’s) house with shoeless eldest. She enquires as to how he is doing with his numbers. Hubby replies that he can count to twenty and recognises numbers up to ten. MIL is very impressed and proud. I add that he also keeps saying a word then telling me what that word rhymes with. “What rhymes with clock?” MIL asks him. He looks at her and swiftly responds “Cock!”. I am horrified. “I hope you mean cockerel!” MIL replies. Hubby, who appears to be extremely proud of his son’s vocabulary, helpfully asks – “and what rhymes with duck?”. “F@ck!” he confidently answers. I have never been more mortified in my life! What happened to cap rhymes with tap? In fairness, I have never asked the clock or duck question. MIL then goes to another room and returns with a game she has purchased him called ‘Gas Out’. Cue excitement from eldest when he realises the objective of the game is to hit some green, gas cloud device that either bubbles or farts depending. If it farts, you are out of the game basically. Hubby, MIL and eldest play a few games and eldest is in his absolute element. Next, it’s off to visit their great gran.

Their great gran is the most lovely and ladylike woman you could ever meet. I call her ‘the lady’. Her house is always immaculate and not a thing is out of place. It’s filled with a multitude of ornaments and pictures of family members which are proudly displayed on the fireplace. This all serves to reduce me to a quivering, nervous wreck what with boisterous eldest, reckless middle and barfing/exploding baby. I knock her door and brace myself. A few minutes later and all of us are seated in her living room. We are having a serious conversation when, out of the depths of nowhere, a chorus of loud farting noises erupts. Unbeknownst to me, eldest has managed to smuggle the above-mentioned gas device into her house with him! Cue more horrified glances between myself and hubby as we frantically try and explain what has happened. Middle then gets bored and decides he will use her whole bottom floor as some kind of running track. Eldest looks on then concur’s that this looks like lots of fun so joins in. After herding them up multiple times, like the wild animals they are, we decide it’s time to leave. Load them all back into the car and wave goodbye to ‘the lady’ who seems ecstatic to see the back of us and thankful her house is still intact. Start the car, take one look at each other and state in unison “thank god that’s done for another few months!”.